


you're not getting away from me (never again)

by synchronicities



Series: the 100 fusions [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, BUT BASICALLY BELLARKE IS PERCABETH HA HA HA HA HA :(, Chapter 2 is about Raven, F/M, Heroes of Olympus AU, OH! lexa is reyna, clarke is the annabeth, raven is the leo valdez leo valdez wishes he could be, spoilerish until book 3 (mark of athena) but not really, wells is both jason and percy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synchronicities/pseuds/synchronicities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A few years ago, she would’ve balked at this – but they are so, so different now, they’ve lived through gods and monsters and Titans, they’ve lived through quests and dying teammates and Wells saving the world and subsequently disappearing and coming back, they’ve lived through Octavia turning out to be Roman, they’ve lived through so much, and, not for the first time, she realizes how relieved and glad she is that it’s him here with her. She looks up at him. 'I don’t think I tell him that enough'."</p><p>Or, Bellamy and Clarke, on a quest to save the world...again.</p><p>(Bellarke + Percy Jackson/Heroes Of Olympus AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes Clarke thinks about how they’re due to save the world  _again_ , and feels slightly hysterical.

It’s _ridiculous_ , so unfair – they’ve barely had time to recover from Titans trying to kill them left and right, and now they’re on a metal ship of death flying halfway around the world to kill a primordial goddess none of them know how to fight, and a quest her divine mother saddles her on that could get her killed. Why couldn’t it be some other seventeen-year-old kids who got caught with this shit while Clarke got an all-expense-paid trip to some exclusive Olympian spa?

(She can’t do that, of course. There was no way she’d pass on the fighting. Not with everything at stake.)

She finds Raven in the cockpit, her fellow demigod practically slumped over the wheel.

“Brought you coffee,” she says softly.

Raven turns around, her ponytail glinting in the fluorescent light. “Thanks,” she says, taking the cup. Her voice is tired. “Smells good. Monty’s?”

“Yup. His coffee’s only slightly less good than his booze, apparently. But it looks like you need sleep more than caffeine. Need me to sub in?” Clarke gestures to the wheel.

“No, babe. I built this baby. Nobody knows her like I–” She’s cut off by her own yawn. “…do.”

Clarke looks at her, bemused. “I’m a genius, remember?” she says. “I’m pretty sure I can get by for a few hours without crashing us into a mountain. Get some sleep, Raven. I’ll call you if any monsters attack.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Griffin.” Raven stops at the door, turns around. “Thanks,” she adds, a little awkwardly.

Clarke watches her leave. She used to envy Raven for continuously oozing confidence, skill, and charisma; for being whitehot emotional only when the situation called for it, for having the sense and maturity for not ending their friendship once Finn’s indiscretion had been discovered. But the last one left a gap between them still, and it’s something Clarke hopes they can mend before they, you know, die.

* * *

 

Clarke’s been driving for three hours. She’s pretty sure Monty puts ambrosia in the coffee. She feels more alive with each sip, and her fingers tingle on the wheel.

“Hey,” Bellamy’s voice says softly behind her. “You left this.”

She turns around. He’s standing in the doorway, in a rumpled T-shirt and the pants he wore today, his hair curling out in every direction. He looks beautiful and exhausted, and he’s holding out a coin.

“I left it on purpose,” she says, but she gets up to take it anyway. The silver metal is cool against her skin, the engraved owl staring at her like a promise. _The Mark of Athena burns through Rome_ , the prophecy had said, and the coin suddenly feels hot on her palm. Suddenly she feels the urge to hurl it out the window, let it fall somewhere into the Atlantic Ocean, to hell with her mother and her urging.

Bellamy seems to sense this and he moves so that his large palms close over her hands.  “Hey,” he says, his voice nothing short of gentle. “It’s been a long day.”

“God, it went to hell in the _worst_ possible way,” Clarke says near-hysterically.

Bellamy’s hands move to her shoulders, and they rub comforting circles through her shirt. “Lexa will understand,” he says quietly.

“What if she doesn’t?” Clarke mumbles. “That truce we worked so hard for – do we have to stop Gaea without her support because we fired on them? It’s–”

Bellamy says nothing, just guides her back to the cockpit. “I’ll keep you company,” he offers, giving her a tired smile. “It’ll be fine.”

Clarke inhales. Exhales. Keeps her eyes trained on her. They’re big and soft and warm.

“Okay,” she says. He smiles at her again and plops down on the extra chair Raven keeps around. They talk about everything and nothing. Clarke keeps her eyes trained on the star charts and the clouds, tries to avoid the way Bellamy looks at her sometimes.

(Deep down, she knows Lexa will understand. She’s Bellona’s daughter, child of a war god like Clarke’s and Bellamy’s parents; like them, she knows the cost of leading. But it’s nice to not have someone constantly expect levelheaded leadership from her once in a while.)

* * *

 

Clarke watches Bellamy, asleep in the chair, and thinks, _It hadn’t always been like this._

She and Wells came to Camp Half-Blood at the same time. They were both twelve, had grown up together in the same upperclass suburban neighborhood, knew each other inside and out. It was only right that they come together. Bellamy had been sixteen at the time, handsome and angry, rough and experienced, and had taken one look at them and sneered.

 _Won’t last half a day if they don’t toughen up_ , he’d told his siblings.

Wells had tugged at her hand, urging her to back down, but Clarke had yelled back, asking him what right he’d had to judge them, they’d gone through the same hardships he had faced coming here –

Chiron himself had had to intervene eventually, sending Wells and Clarke back to Cabin Eleven and giving Bellamy a hard talking-to. Clarke had felt a rush of pride.

 _Pretty impressive_ , Miller had said. He was a Hermes kid, two years older than her, and nice-sounding. _I’ve never seen a kid get Bellamy so riled up._

 _I’m not a kid_ , Clarke had said stubbornly.

 _And he’s not head counselor of Ares_ , Miller had reminded her mildly.

 _Makes sense_ , Clarke had replied, pouting. _What a brute_.

Miller and Wells had laughed. _He’s not so bad once you get to know him_ , Miller had replied, not unkindly. _But I won’t tell him you said that_.

 _It’s true_ , she thinks. _Bellamy’s not bad at all_.

Her first Capture the Flag game, Eleven had been allied with Five. Clarke doesn’t remember much of it, just a lot of yelling, but she _had_ come up with a strategy that had ended up taking a lot of Four and Nine campers out. Soon, it had ended up with her and Bellamy back-to-back defending the flag.

 _Watch your back_ , _princess_ , he’d said.

 _You don’t have to watch yours, I’ve got your back_ , she’d said hotly.

They did a damn fine job of defending the flag for a while; Clarke finds that she and Bellamy actually make a damn good team – he’s all rage and raw power, Clarke is grace and finesse, and they managed to channel this into something workable and ferocious. Clarke takes out two enemies with a well-placed arrow, and Bellamy’s mouth drops open.

 _You’re being claimed_ , Bellamy had whispered, gazing at the owl above her head. _Athena_. _Of course_.

They managed to win, but only by the skin of their teeth; Clarke took a blow to the back that left her bedridden for a day. Wells was beside her when she’d awoken. _Hey, niece-once-removed_ , he’d said, smiling with teeth. He lets a spark of electricity pass from one hand to the other, and her jaw drops open before breaking into an earsplitting grin.

Bellamy was there, too. _You okay there?_ he had asked, and his expression towards her is kind for the first time.

She learned a lot about him in the years that came. She learned that he loves his sister more than anything in the world and that he stays over for the summers because he doesn’t want to put her in danger, and that they grew up with practically nothing. He learned that she’d hoped to be an Apollo kid, only because she’d planned to be a doctor, and "Apollo likes art, right?" When her father died and she and Wells stopped talking, she started staying the summers with him, and they trained and fought and fished and ate together. It was…nice. They've practically grown up together.

Bellamy stirs, jolting her back to the present. He smiles at her blearily. “O, captain, my captain,” he sing-songs. “Am I _that_ handsome in my sleep?”

“You’re only handsome when you’re asleep,” she retorts, but she can’t stop herself from grinning back.

“Coming from you, that’s a compliment of the highest order. I will treasure it till the end of my days,” he says. “Sorry I fell asleep,” he adds, more seriously.

“It’s fine,” Clarke says. “Like you said – long day.  And hey, we’re okay.”

He grins at her and Clarke promises herself – the day this is over, they will finally talk about what _this_ is between them – but only then. Until then, there’s a world to save.

They come down for breakfast where the rest are eating. “Hey, Clarke,” says Wells cheerily. “Raven told me you so heroically took over for her, so I asked Bufort to make us blueberry pancakes.”

Clarke fights a smile. “Thank you, my loyal subjects,” she says, taking a seat next to him. He gives her a small smile, and she nods at him. Their friendship will never quite be what it once was, but it’s a start.

“…and then Maya walked by and Jasper just walked _straight_ into the fountain,” Monty’s saying, and the breakfast table dissolves into laughter. Clarke lets herself sit back and lose herself in the chatter. It’s nice, eating and talking like this. It’s almost like they’re a bunch of excited kids, not a bunch of tired warriors.

Bellamy meets her eye across the table, his glance worried, and she sends him a weak smile. They’ve always understood each other.

* * *

 

A lot of things happen when they cross the Mediterranean. Finn gets a cornucopia when dealing with Hercules, they all fight the same wind and air monsters a thousand times and everyone nearly dies when Chrysaor boards their ship. But somehow, praise the gods – they make it to Rome.

Bellamy goes with her while she searches for the entrance to what her mother’s looking for. He’s on high alert, constantly on the lookout for threats to the two of them, but Clarke can tell he’s excited – Rome has always been the dream for him, and he chatters on about this building and that fountain, holding her hand all the while. Clarke smiles and doesn’t let go.

A few years ago, she would’ve balked at this – but they are so, so different now, they’ve lived through gods and monsters and Titans, they’ve lived through quests and dying teammates and Wells saving the world and subsequently disappearing and coming back, they’ve lived through Octavia turning out to be _Roman_ , they’ve lived through so much, and, not for the first time, she realizes how relieved and _glad_ she is that it’s him here with her. She looks up at him. _I don’t think I tell him that enough._

So when they sit down at a café for lunch and Tiberinus and Rhea Silva come up to them, Bellamy’s eyes nearly drop out of their sockets.

“Lovers?” Rhea Silva trills, her mouth curled in Audrey Hepburn’s famous smile.

Bellamy and Clarke look at each other and shake their heads. Clarke pretends her cheeks don’t heat up.

“No, my lady, it’s–”

“We’re on a quest–”

Tiberinus and Rhea Silva laugh heartily, like their denial is some kind of joke. “It’s always the same with you demigods,” he says in Gregory Peck’s deep voice. “But come, children. We’ll help you.”

They get on a vespa – _a vespa_ , seriously – and Rhea Silva turns to her. “There have been many children of Athena who have gone before you,” she says, “And all of them have failed. But if you can do it – that will change everything.”

“No pressure, right?” Clarke gulps.

Rhea Silva glances at the other vespa. “That boy,” she says, looking at her, “The two of you do not have the kind of connection that makes you weak. It’s forged in fire and will only get stronger. You can use it, too. I think he knows, the way he looks at you.”

Clarke ducks her head and looks away. “It’s not like that.”

Rhea Silva tuts knowingly, but says nothing else.

When they arrive at the entrance to the underground, the god and goddess bid them farewell. Bellamy stands next to her. “Wish I could go with you, Clarke, but Tiberinus was really sure about me having my own path and all,” he says, looking down on her.

Clarke takes a deep breath. She thinks about Wells, Finn, Raven, Murphy, and Monty, thinks about this godforsaken quest and all they’ve gone through together; she thinks about Octavia and Harper and Jasper and Miller and all the others they left guarding Camp Half-Blood; she thinks of her mother and Bellamy’s father and all their parents trying to deal with this goddamn divine schizophrenia, she thinks of fighting _Gaea_ somehow, somewhere. She thinks of Rhea Silvia’s knowing smile. She glances at him, and he’s staring at her, his gaze firm and level.

"You okay?" he asks softly. It's always like this, he's always _so_ patient with her, and suddenly she feels a rush of warmth.

“Hey,” she says fiercely and suddenly, “When all this is over and we finally defeat the fucking ground, we’re coming back here. To Rome. Like a legitimate vacation for sightseeing and everything. Together.”

Bellamy stares at her, stunned, before his face breaks out into a smile. “I’d like that,” he says, before pulling her into a bonecrushing hug. “Take care of yourself in there. We’ll catch up,” he says, his chest rumbling against her ear. She hasn’t felt so happy in a long time.

Her arms tighten around him. “Take care of yourself, too,” she whispers. “We’ll meet again.”

He lowers his lips to her hair and kisses her head. “We’ll meet again.”

* * *

 

Clarke’s ankle is burning and her head hurts like a bitch, but she keeps talking, seduces the giant spider with grandiose promises and sweet lies.“I’m rebuilding Olympus,” she says, her voice unwavering, “And I can put your work above my mother’s. Those gods, they never cared about us anyway.”And the terrifying thing is she almost believes herself.

Arachne spins and spins until she’s woven her own jail, and Clarke feels the sick sweep of triumph in her stomach. “My mother will thank you,” she says, only slightly smug, “for keeping her statue safe.” The spider woman frowns as she screeches.

Then the Argo II blasts a hole in the ceiling, and she holds Bellamy’s gaze across the room, he’s leaping off the ship to get to her, and the floor splits open and the spider woman falls and falls, and for one blissful second she feels nothing but sick happiness and relief –

And that’s when she feels Arachne’s thread around her ankle, pulling her down with her. Clarke _screams._

Bellamy’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s _there_.

Things move in slow motion – she’s aware of the others loading the Athena Parthenos onto the _Argo II_ , of Raven and Wells running towards them, of Bellamy yelling at Murphy to promise to take the others to the Doors of Death, and she feels her hands slipping, yells – _no, let me go, you can’t, please go with them, Bellamy_ –

(But they’re children of war; they will _always_ understand each other. Clarke wishes for the first time in her life that he’d let go of her hand.)

“Hey,” he says, his voice choked. Clarke thinks she’ll remember how Bellamy looks right now for the rest of her life – looking at her like he’s about to lose her, his muscles strained with the effort of holding her up, death and destruction happening behind him and he can’t focus on anything except _her_. “I’ve got your back. Together, right?”

She feels tears pooling in her eyes.

He falls into Tartarus with her, and she lets him.


	2. the way your blood sings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven Reyes discovers she has rad fire powers and kills her mother on the same night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was...not intending to continue this story, but this wouldn't get out of my system.

Raven discovers she has rad fire powers and kills her mother on the same night.

She doesn’t mean for _either_ to happen. It’s a regular night and she’s fixing their broken toaster, she’s always been gifted with things like that, _something you got from you dad, darling_ , her mom would always say, except she never told Raven anything else about her dad or anything else at all, really. Instead Raven had a stepfather that’s as flighty and neglectful as her mom, and how is that supposed to work, you’d think at least _one_ of them would be on the lookout for her. But birds of a feather flock together and she’s saddled with _three_ shitty parental figures, two of whom leave broken bottles scattered around the dark apartment and one of whom couldn’t even be bothered to stick around.

She hadn’t done that great in school, either – she’s jumpy and twitchy, which only adds to her temper and gets her sent to the principal’s office more than once, and she has difficulty reading words; the letters seem to switch themselves around in her head, and she did so badly one year that she’s held back. Her mother and stepfather seem to remember she exists then, if only because it’s another year of paying for school, and they yell at her for three hours.

It wasn’t so bad in the long run, though. She got to know Finn, who’s in her year now, and he’s beautiful and nice and sensitive. Like her, he’s missing a parent, like her, the letters twist themselves in his head, and like her, he can’t seem to focus on any one thing. The other kids sneer at them and the teachers turn up their nose, but at least Raven has someone to eat lunch with. Finn holds her hand, and Raven feels warmth in her chest.

The summer Raven turns twelve, her stepfather leaves her mother, and her mother leaves her even more for alcohol.

So it happens like this: she’s at home fixing a toaster that’s probably older than she is. It’s easy, second nature, check the transistors, replace wonky parts of the circuitry. Easy. It would’ve been like any job, and she would’ve had cold chicken to pop into the microwave for dinner, and she would’ve gone to sleep.

Except her mother coming home is burned into her memory – hair mussed, eyes blown wide, mouth turned in a downwards sneer, bottle clutched in hand. Raven blinks; her mother shares her skin and eyes and mouth, and she’s horrified at what she sees. “It’s your fault,” her mother hisses, “Your fault he left me.”

“Travis?” Raven is stupid enough to ask. “Or my dad?”

She remembers her mother’s mouth twisting cruelly, and not much else, before –

(before)

before suddenly her mother’s hands are around Raven’s throat, and she’s yelling and screaming and Raven is clawing at her hands not even to fight her mother off but just to _breathe_ , and it’s terrible she’s desperate and feels like she’s about to die, and she’d cry if she could, how could her _mother_ , who was neglectful but _loved_ her, she knew – her mother drops her, gasping on the floor, reaches for the toaster and raises it above her head –

Raven screams.

Then the toaster explodes.

There’s fire _everywhere_ , suddenly, and the only thing Raven can hear is her mother screaming as the fire gets _bigger_ , and she’s running towards the front door and then there’s smoke in her lungs but she’s not being _burnt_ and she feels like collapsing, wonders briefly if she’s going to die here –

Until suddenly there are strong hands pulling her up and there’s a man with goat legs staring down at her – “Good thing we got you out in time,” he’s saying, “C’mon, girlie. We gotta run.”

* * *

 

It’s not a story she likes telling. There are a few who know about it, of course, Finn, Chiron, her favorite siblings, but people _ask_ about how she discovered her fire powers, and she just says, “I was fixing the toaster and it kind of exploded,” and that shuts them up fine.

The _immediately after_ is not something she likes, either – they cross the pine tree into a camp and she’s brought to the Big House, where Chiron’s looking at her kindly. “Raven Reyes,” he says, “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Where is this?” she remembers spitting out, because she’s small and twelve and tired and may have just killed her own mother. “What are you?”

Chiron had drawn himself up to his full height. “I hope you’re familiar with the word _centaur_ , Raven. The better question is – do you know what _you_ are?”

 _Demigod_. The revelation surprises her, but only on a superficial level; she’s always known, deep down, that there’s _something_ about her – she’d confided in her mother, at first, at how some of the adults’ faces flickered sometimes, showing things more terrifying than she could describe, but her mother had folded up on herself and refused to talk about it.

Chiron sets her up in the Hermes cabin – _for transit,_ he says, “Only until you’re claimed. I have a feeling none of us will be surprised when you are.” Before he leaves, he tells her, “Two things – get some rest, you’ll need it, and–” his smile’s gentle. “You’re safe here.”

It’s the best night’s sleep she’s had in years.

(She’s claimed not even two days later.)

* * *

 

The _after after_ is much better.

That summer is one of the best of Raven’s life – days spent with her new siblings in the bunker tinkering away at machinery, in the fields racing with pegasi, in the training rooms practicing with weaponry. It’s practically a dream, and the days begin to blur together.

One of the best, of course, if you discount the nightmares. They come, of course – of explosions and her mother’s face dripping vicious accusations, and she wakes in the middle of the night sweating and on the verge of screaming. But her siblings are kind, the head counselor Wick learns how to make hot chocolate the way she likes it and the sister who bunks below her, Monroe, tells her about her school, her half-brother, her dog, all in a steady, calm voice, and Raven breathes in and thinks, yes, she can live here.

(She never uses the fire powers.)

Raven asks Chiron, of course, what’s happening to her family, who’s dealing with the legal fallout of her mother. He assures her they’re dealing with it. (She learns later that Chiron had been making legal trips back and forth on her behalf, and her father – her _father, the god_ – had turned up a few times, and her heart warms.)

And that’s before Finn comes, on the heels of a chimaera attack that Thalia Grace’s tree zaps back. She’d been practicing swordsmanship with Bellamy from Ares, the older boy critiquing her stance and hold, when she’d seen him and his protector stumble past the boundaries, his clothes torn and dirty and his hair messy and accidentally make eye contact with her, his jaw dropping. Raven has never been happier in her life.

She sneaks him out of Hermes the night after he arrives and they lie on the roof of Cabin Nine, which Wick had repurposed as sort of a dumping ground-slash-workshop after Monroe got too annoyed with all the clutter in the cabin and the bunker.

“So,” he says.

“So.”

“We’re demigods.” Finn’s voice falters, like he’s not used to saying it.

“We are.” She eyes him out of the corner of her eye. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“You’re Hephaestus’s kid,” he says. “And I’m someone’s, I don’t know–” his face breaks out into the smile Raven loves. “It’s amazing, Rae. It’s weird that I’m saying it, but it makes so much sense. It’s nice,” he adds, almost like an afterthought. “Feeling like I belong somewhere.”

“Like we belong somewhere,” Raven reminds him. “Hey, we’re really family now. Sort of.”

He grins at her again. “Yeah.”

Raven’s there when Aphrodite claims Finn, when the bright pink doves appear above his head and his jaw drops open in surprise. She’s there when he moves his stuff into Cabin Five, wrinkling his nose at all the pink but appreciating the warm hugs from his affectionate siblings. His sisters look between them and smile knowingly, and Raven tries not to frown.

“You guys love each other,” Roma whispers conspiratorially, her hands twisting in her dark hair.

“It’s not like that,” Raven says, annoyed, because Finn’s never been anything more than family to her.

Roma looks undeterred. “He looks at you, too,” she says flippantly, before patting Raven on the shoulder and heading out of the cabin.

(She’s right.)

* * *

 

Raven and Finn grow up that year, come into their own as members of their cabins. Finn’s always been charming and diplomatic and Raven’s always been fiery and good with machines. It just works. Finn kisses her for the first time at the summer’s end ceremony, before they leave to go back to normal life. He returns to his family and Raven is palmed off to a disinterested aunt across the country. It sucks, but there’s Iris-messaging and letters and Finn never feels far away, not really.

There’s always next summer.

Raven’s aunt never mentions her mother, and they both prefer it that way. She doesn’t need her mother. Not now, when she has Finn and everyone.

Two summers later, Clarke Griffin and Wells Jaha come into camp. She doesn’t think much of them, only that they’re scrawny rich kids, not until Jaha shoots lightning from his fingers. Then everybody’s tiptoeing on eggshells around him, but it’s hard not to like him – he’s amiable and kind, dotes on Clarke, the kind type of leader his dad never was.

Griffin, well.

She catches Finn making out with her two weeks in, and Raven retreats into her cabin, throws herself into gadgeteering, leaves only to eat and attend important camp events. She doesn’t speak to Finn, because she’s not sure if she can stick back the fragments of her soul if she does.

She’s so caught up in avoiding Finn that she’s stunned stupid by Clarke Griffin standing on the Cabin Nine doorstep. “What are you doing here?”

Clarke inhales. She’s pretty, Raven notices, with her mother’s blonde hair and steely gaze. “Wells and I are leaving on a quest tomorrow,” she says quietly. “Bellamy’s going with us, but – well, it’s our first, so in case something happens – I want you to know that I’m sorry, Raven. If I had known, I would _never_ –”

Raven envelops her in a hug before she can say anything else. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. She’s not sure if she means it, but it seems the right thing to say. “You’ll survive.”

Clarke Griffin smiles at her, innocent and sunny, and Raven’s jealousy dies down just a little. She leaves her cabin to see them off the next morning. Finn is there, too, skulking at the side; she sees him approaching and shuts him down with “There’s nothing to talk about, Finn.”

(Clarke, Wells, and Bellamy do more than survive. They bring the fucking Golden Fleece back with them, too.)

* * *

 

It takes time, but Raven forgives Finn.

She lets him kiss her again, too, but it’s different now, knowing he’d cheated. Raven’s voice screams _not good enough_ , _disposable_ , _boring enough to be cheated on_ , and sometimes he makes her hole up in her cabin and cry for family. For his part, Finn’s eyes are gentler, he holds her softer, kisses her temple more affectionately, tells her he loves her more and more – but deep down, Raven knows things won’t ever be the same between them.

It’s also hard with Clarke around – the next year, Clarke stays the school year along with Raven and Bellamy and a few other kids. At first, nobody asks why she’s not at her fancy prep school, why Wells isn’t with her. But Raven sits on the lakeside with Clarke, Monty, and Jasper; the latter two are doing something inane with some lakeside plants a couple hundred meters down, leaving her with Clarke on the pier.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Princess,” Raven says softly, breaking through the awkward silence. “Why’re you here?”

“My father’s dead,” says Clarke. “He was an engineer, knew some stupid state secret. Someone ratted him out.” She’s blunt about it but Raven can tell she loved her father from the quiver in her voice and the gloss in her eyes, and thinks of her own mother and her rough fingers.

“Does Wells know?”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, because Clarke’s eyes flash, her shoulders stiffen. “It was Wells’s fault,” she says, very lowly and tightly that Raven has to strain to hear it.

Awkwardly, she puts her arm around Clarke. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “Boys suck.”

That, at least, makes her laugh.

* * *

 

The summer Raven turns seventeen, they stop the world from ending. It’s bloody and it’s brutal and they lose so much and nobody quite knows where Bellamy and Clarke and Wells are, but on the ground, while throwing bomb after bomb after bomb, Raven thinks they’re doing pretty okay.

And then there’s a drakon.

And then suddenly Finn’s _falling_ –

Raven blinks. And then suddenly, she doesn’t hesitate. Suddenly her hands warm and all she can see is _fire,_ and she’s yelling and running and leading the Drakon down 57th Avenue and hurling fire, and suddenly – the Drakon collapses, half its face burnt off, its leg crushed by a falling building, and all Raven can feel is _empty_.

“Fire powers,” says Jasper, when she wakes up in the makeshift medbay. It’s equal parts accusing and admiring. He’s one of those Apollo kids who’s good with a bow and arrow but not with medicine, but they’re low on manpower and for now, he’s all she’s got. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Reyes.” Jasper looks uncertain for a moment. “They thought you had the blessing of Ares in you,” he adds quietly.

“Finn was dying,” is all Raven says, looking down at her hands. She can still feel it, the anger, the need for revenge, the fury, the way her blood had sung. The fact that she would do it again in a second, kill and burn and destroy cities for _him_ still, terrifies her. “I’m not going to apologize for doing what I had to do.” She looks over at Finn, unconscious in the bed next to her.  Half of his face is scarred from the acid and the bandage around his stomach is beginning to bleed through. Her breath catches and she nearly sobs at the sight of him. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jasper touches her hand comfortingly. “He’ll be fine,” he says, like he’s trying to make himself believe it too.

By the time Finn wakes up, she’s gone.

* * *

 

She doesn’t talk to him at the end of everything. There’s partying, lots of it rancorous and uninhibited, and then, quieter, rebuilding. Raven and Wick build a dragon, and little Charlotte from Cabin Seven shrieks with glee when she rides on it. She drinks Sterling’s wine and lets Roma do her hair, teaches Mel how to swing a sword and laughs at Bellamy’s bad jokes. It’s nice, rebuilding the camp. It gives them something to do, to forget the losses, and allow the relative peace. It keeps her busy.

But that’s before Wells Jaha goes missing.

Later, when he is returned to them, Raven will remember how Clarke had cried when she’d heard the news, and how she’d launched herself at Wells when they find him in Rome, Lexa’s billowing robes and stoic mien behind him.

“I wanted to make up with him,” Clarke had murmured. “Saving the world – it really puts things into perspective.” Bellamy’s arm is around her and Clarke’s slumped into his shoulder like it’s the most wonderful thing in the world, and Raven’s not _blind_. It’s obvious to anyone who’ll look twice that Bellamy is utterly devoted to Clarke. _Personal loyalty_ , the gods had whispered, _his fatal flaw_. He’d burn cities for her, fight alongside her, die for her.

In Rome, he falls into Tartarus for her.

Now, Raven would never be inclined to trust John Murphy – he _reeks_ of death – but she loves Bellamy, and she loves Clarke, and when the Parthenos is loaded up on the ship and everyone’s in hysterics she’s the one who takes him by the collar and _asks_ him how to get to the Doors of Death.

 _Epirus_ , he chokes out. _Greece_.

Everyone’s sullen. The plant in Monty’s hand wilts and Wells’s hand stills. That’s another sea to cross, more monsters to fight, more death and destruction.   _Can we even_ , she thinks mirthlessly. _Who are we to think we can save them? Save the world?_

 _Do you know what you are_? Chiron’s voice rings again.

Raven Reyes. Daughter of Hephaestus. Mechanic. Teenage orphan. Freak pyrokinetic. Finn’s ex (?). One of seven dumb kids prophesied to save the world. These have become her identifiers.

She inhales, and stands.

“You think Bellamy and Clarke would want us to sit around and mope for them?” she says, her voice hard. The others turn to look at her. “Don’t you guys think for one second that those two won’t be looking for the Doors of Death and we have to fucking be there and wait for them when they get out, is that clear?”

Wells stands next, sending her an appreciative look. “Raven is right,” he says. “We have to keep moving.”

The others listen to him, because he’s a child of Zeus, duh, and they scurry off to their quarters. But he slides into the copilot seat next to her when she sits down. “Thanks for that.”

“We all needed it. For Clarke and Bellamy, too.” She turns to him. “I know you guys are tight and you’re freaked, and trust me? This is the most freaked I’ve been since I was twelve years old. But Bellamy and Clarke – they’re counting on us.” It’s hard to think of Bellamy and Clarke, both so proud and strong and stubborn and deserving of life.

Wells’s expression is distant. “We count on each other,” he says finally. “That’s the whole point of team.”

Raven Reyes. Engineering genius. Gifted with fire powers. Drakon-slayer. One of seven badass demigod warriors destined to save the world.

(She’s fine with that.)

She closes her eyes, breathes in, smirks back at him.

“Damn fucking right. Buckle up, Jaha.” Her fingers warm, tightening on the steering wheel with renewed determination. “Gaea won’t know what hit her.”

**Author's Note:**

> You say “Percabeth in Mark of Athena”, I say CLARKE AND BELLAMY VS. THE WORLD, REDUX! As you can probably tell I didn’t think too much about the specific logistics of this AU – why are there no romans on the argo ii? Who was the roman ace??!?!?! w/e w/e I do what I want (the answers to those questions r idk and also lincoln, probably)
> 
> I may or may not write the Tartarus sequel, but I’m not feeling up to rereading House of Hades for this, so.
> 
> PS. IF BELLAMY SWAM THE STYX CLARKE WOULD 100% BE HIS ACHILLES HEEL, AMIRITE  
> PPS. RAVEN-CENTRIC SEQUEL/PREQUEL SET IN THIS VERSE 45% SURE UPCOMING!
> 
> If it wasn't clear from the text:  
> Clarke - Child of Athena  
> Bellamy - Child of Ares  
> Octavia - Child of /Mars/, there's a lot of hustle and disapproval re: her falling in love with a ~Roman  
> Lexa - Child of Bellona  
> Raven - Child of Hephaestus  
> Wells - Child of Zeus  
> Monty - Child of Demeter  
> Finn - Child of Aphrodite (Im iffy about white boi Finn taking the place of my homegirl Piper, but u gotta do what u gotta do)  
> Murphy - Child of Hades ha ha ha ha ha  
> Athena looks like Abby (which is actually a fancast I can definitely get behind, have you seen that eyebrow game?) and Zeus looks like Jaha, basically.
> 
> also if you read mark of athena you fricking know where that title is from, assholes :( :( :(
> 
> ALSO! since this bellarke fusion series is going to be a thing, you can hit me up on tumblr @ [philomelas](http://philomelas.tumblr.com) to request other works of fiction and pairings! (shh im doing a winter soldier au next)


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